So our air conditioner has been making this horrific noise when we turn it on. Somewhere between a loud squeak and a death rattle.
I first noticed this a couple of weeks ago, and mentioned to my lovely husband that we might want to get on that. Because it’s summer. Summer in the Middle East is hot.*
To be honest, usually I keep the air conditioning off during the day and play the game where I close the windows and the blinds and things stay at a vaguely reasonable level until the evening (if I’m lucky) or the middle of the afternoon (if I’m not).
But the second he comes home, Taxman puts on the air conditioner and we sleep with it–that’s totally necessary for me and my insomniac ways. Too hot and I lie awake, sweaty and miserable. Here, especially, where we have no fans and the air outside might be “cool” (72, ha ha), but we have no way to get it INTO the house and move it around.
The scary noise, which initially would abate after a few seconds or come and go, became a permanent condition on Saturday night. So we left it off. Which means that Saturday night and last night sleeping was iffy at best. (The” take a shower before bed and sleep with minimal clothing” advice works, to a point. Not a point that I’d want to visit permanently.)
But renting an apartment is not like owning one. Because instead of just calling a repair person, we had to call the apartment manager. We got someone to come, he told me what was wrong, quoted me a price, and said he could fix it now. But I had to tell him to wait; call the apartment manager; and wait for the ok from the owner. The owner said ok (how could she not?), but then I had to listen to the manager and the repair guy bicker on the phone about what was actually wrong and how much the collective us (we pay now and get reimbursed) should pay, can we pay cash, etc. For a minute I thought the manager was going to say no, not to fix it, but somehow the repair guy convinced him that yes, this really is the death rattle–he said it was the motor of the fan, important for a/c, yes?–and it was either fix now or fix very soon.
And wouldn’t you know, the repair guy tells me one price and the apartment manager tells me a different price. For cash, naturally. (Squick. And even the higher price is 200 NIS–about $60–less than the original quote. I am not cut out to live here. I’ll be the one crying in the corner.)
But I hate the apartment manager guy. He’s an asshole who has tried to stonewall other repairs (like the leak in the pipe from the rooftop boiler…sure why, not? It’s not his water bill) and has been generally shady with other reimbursements. He also seems to blame us for the spate of repairs, not seeming to understand that the apartment is 10 years old and things break or wear out.
So I am going to feel creeped out, because I don’t know who is telling the truth, pay the repair guy what he wants, and hope that the apartment manager doesn’t remember that he didn’t approve the extra 50 NIS.
Wow, how I do love the Middle East in the morning. Now…where is my iced coffee beverage?
WAIT! It gets better!
Two smarmy guys + Kate =
The cheap price was without value added tax (about 16%), so the repair guy can’t give me a receipt! Do you see where this is going? The apartment manager is going to balk at the reimbursement because we can’t prove what we paid. I figured it out, though, and the repair guy said sure he’d come back and give us a receipt if we pay the extra 200 NIS. *hate* and also *squick* for tacitly allowing someone else to cheat on their taxes
But now the a/c works.
* /understatement. As my SIL told me recently, when we were speculating on the weather forecast for this coming Friday Family Fun Day, “Well, it’s July. So your choices are Very Hot or Very, Very Hot.”